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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676114">Appreciation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/33_001/pseuds/33_001'>33_001</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, First Time, Gen, young Deidara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:29:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,469</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/33_001/pseuds/33_001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn't say he had never been appreciated. He always had been - in certain ways.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Deidara &amp; Sasori (Naruto)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SasoDei Week 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Appreciation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Deidara was used to being mocked.<br/>Used to his passion being looked down upon.<br/>Used to the fact, people would not take his art seriously.</p><p>He couldn't say he had never been appreciated. He always had been - in certain ways.<br/>His kekkei genkai always had been.<br/>His skills as a shinobi and as a member of the explosion corps had been. Mostly, at least.<br/>Everytime he did what he was asked, at least. Everytime he got the job done and more so if he got the job done exactly how he'd been instructed to. (He never tried. A job done was a job done and he rather had it his way.)</p><p>Everytime he was the tool shinobi should be, appreciation of his skills and work had been his reward.</p><p>But never his art. (Not his character either, but this he didn't mind so much, not actively.)<br/>Never his essence - never what was important to him, never what he wanted people to see and appreciate.</p><p>It was disregarded. Or overlooked - which he'd argue was worse.</p><p> </p><p>But he was used to it.</p><p>And someday, it would be different.<br/>Someday - someday they wouldn't be able to look away anymore.</p><p>Until then he could deal with it and he did so by embracing every spark of anger he felt.</p><p>His emotions were used to form into such - sorrow, hurt, despair, all that was negative <strike>and frightening</strike> turned anger in the end. Being furious was a feasible and effective way to handle things, Deidara found.</p><p> </p><p>Sasori had noticed, too.</p><p>They hadn't been partners for long yet, but every emotion Deidara had, was, in some way, passionate. He felt intensely and he didn't hide it - he quite actively did the contrary.<br/>It was exhausting, sometimes. How he went from excitable to manic to complacent to boastful - to desperate and desperately trying to hide it, seemingly without taking notice of it himself.</p><p>But also so pointless, that he could ignore it, when necessary.</p><p>It seemed he was already getting used to it, which probably was for the better. He'd have to put up with him on a daily basis now and for the forseeable future, after all.</p><p> </p><p>In between fits of rage and wasting his artistic potential with an ideology that was all but art - he could be quiet, too, though.</p><p>When they paused to rest, they often sat down, both keeping their distance, back to back and then they would work on their own things silently.</p><p>Sasori had wondered first - if it was a difficult task for the young bomber to do so, but to his surprise quickly came to notice he was truly concentrated and invested in his works.<br/>Was even more surprised he often managed, without visible difficulties, to keep quiet even when he ran out of clay and things to do.</p><p>Sometimes, he would sit down next to him and watch him work and what had been irritating and unwelcome to Sasori the first few times, already wasn't hard to tolerate anymore.<br/>Maybe he would learn something about true art this way.</p><p> </p><p>Some days were different.</p><p>There were those days he could <em>not</em> keep quiet, days were he would talk while forming his clay into shapes that not always were uninspired, days were he would ask too many questions.<br/>But he was already getting used to it. Could tolerate some of those, even.</p><p>And while his questions often were too many, they rarely were to be considered dumb.</p><p> </p><p>And then there were also days he was not tolerable, at all.</p><p>When he failed to find enough of an outlet in his works and tried to put his frustrations out into the wold, where Sasori did not want them.</p><p>His complaints of being underestimated, that everyone who couldn't understand his art was just a fool, of all the horror he felt to not being recognized - the latter at least, what was Sasori got out of it, without Deidara needing to say it out loud. <strike>Because that part Sasori could feel himself.</strike></p><p><br/>Today was such a day.</p><p>Today it became hard, to ignore them, because sometimes Deidara just was too loud to go ignored. (And that probably was exactly the purpose, just that neither of them realized it.)</p><p> </p><p>When Sasori stood and took the allegedly finished figure out of his partner's hands, because he couldn't stand those complaints any longer holding it in front of his face without looking at it - he looked at him, into his eyes which watched him almost shocked - Deidara was too startled to take his work back from him.</p><p>“This, Deidara”, he said, in a now angry tone himself, which made the younger artist shiver for a moment and wanted to form into defensive fury in the next – just like he was used to.<br/>He knew what Sasori would say, he knew it after all. And he was braced for it. It hadn't gotten through to him years ago, when his peers and tutors had said it over and over again, when even his opponents wouldn't acknowledge it, until it was too late for them and it wouldn't now.<br/>Every time he'd be ridiculed, he'd only grow stronger in his beliefs.</p><p>But "this could be art", Sasori said, still angry and firm, still looking at him. But Deidara's anger was suddenly different. Not gone, but - he felt confused, and so was his rage.</p><p><br/>It was so obvious, for some moments, how he tried to cling to it, and get rid of those additions that didn't belong. Anger made things easier after all. Anger was his defense. Anger was, what he was used to. What he could <em>handle</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Could</em> be?", he barked, when he managed to get a hold of the irritating emotion, trying to mend the usually so solid, now fickle thing, back into the shape of rage it was supposed to be. </p><p>But it wouldn't stay so firm.</p><p>"Don't", Sasori hissed back, cutting him off before he could yell more senseless words.</p><p> </p><p>Deidara swallowed. Not in fear or shock. Swallowed the words he wanted to spit in Sasori's face with utmost effort and looked firmly back at him.<br/>He wasn't sure what made him listen. He often wasn't sure with Sasori, but he did, even if he hated to.</p><p>"Do you want to improve?"</p><p>Deidara swallowed again and he involuntarily pouted when retorting "Of course!", face and throat and chest all tense.</p><p> </p><p>Sasori hated those moments. Those moments he couldn't fully ignore that his partner was just a kid. Those moments Deidara reminded him so much of his own younger self, with the difference being, that Sasori had kept his emotions inwards - and Deidara lived them, so unbearingly vividly.</p><p>How he despised his face when it was like this.</p><p>How he despised having memories of feeling exactly what he saw on his face. Despised knowing that it wasn't fair.</p><p>And he knew, he wouldn't be fair to him, either. It wouldn't do him any good, after all. He was a kid, but he couldn't afford to be one, just like the rest of them, and if he wanted to keep around for at least a while, he would have to stay used to the unfair way it was.<br/>Going easy on a young shinobi was only making it harder for them, in the long run.</p><p> </p><p>An he did not need any more motivation after all. He had what he called art. He had a passion. An incentive.<br/>That sufficed. It had sufficed for Sasori and it would suffice for him.</p><p> </p><p>So Sasori ignored the childlike pout, ignored how obvious it was he had a lump in his throat he didn't yet manage to swallow and directed his gaze to the figure.</p><p>"Then listen", he said, opening his palm and sitting down again, next to him this time.</p><p>And Deidara did.</p><p>More shocked than before. So irritated what he was supposed to feel.<br/>Felt so lost all of a sudden and still tried to find the comforting spite and anger, while it molded and shifted and slowly slipped away.</p><p>But he listened.</p><p>Listened to his critique and his lecture and instructions and his suggestions and demands. And his guidance.</p><p>And slowly, he was able to let go of the emotion.</p><p>It wasn't so bad, he thought. Sasori wasn't so wrong, maybe.</p><p>Perhaps he was a little in awe, when listening to his instructions caused a change for the better in the small figure, even.</p><p>And when Sasori stood up and it looked closer to perfection for the both of them, and he felt Sasori's hand on his head for a brief, but intense moment (like they were supposed to be) - maybe he felt at least a little appreciated for what he had created.<br/>For what he truly was. For what was sincerely important to him.</p><p>For the first time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Managed to write down a quick idea I had for this.</p><p>Uh, I wrote this all over the place and finished it after not really sleeping last night and I don't have the strength to read over it again rn so if there's missing half a sentence or worse, uh ... I'll fix it later.........</p></blockquote></div></div>
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